


the night will forgive us

by Tedronai



Series: did we make it through the night [1]
Category: The Malazan Book of the Fallen - Steven Erikson
Genre: Book: The Bonehunters, Character Death Fix, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: “I suppose that to die by your side would have been a nobler death than I deserved.”In which Ahlrada Ahn doesn't die, dammit, Steven.





	the night will forgive us

**Author's Note:**

> _time won't heal, it just buries the pain_  
>  _and slowly changes form_  
>  _but a bleeding heart is an open one,_  
>  _alive yet so undone_  
>  _we carry these wounds until night forgives us_  
>  —[Night Will Forgive Us](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWcMJxfVen4) by Swallow the Sun

The silence that wrapped around Drift Avalii felt more than a little eerie after all that had happened. Not an hour ago, every living — or undead — being on the island had been but moments away from utter annihilation, yet somebody had intervened.  _ Something. _ An ancient spirit of the Eres’al had stilled the storm that was Icarium’s rage, and those still alive — or undead — had found themselves looking at a continued existence. For now.

Trull Sengar sat with his back against a wall, near the archway leading into the chamber where Shadowthrone had finished healing Minala and those of the children who had lived long enough to receive it. The mage called Quick Ben lay not far away, unconscious but no longer dying, as did Ahlrada Ahn; the presence of the Eres’al had not only calmed the Jhag and mended Onrack, but also healed the human sorcerer and the Edur warrior, saving their lives.

Trull was glad. Quick Ben had been summoned to fight a battle that was not his, and dying here would have been a poor reward for the time his efforts had bought Trull and the children. And Ahlrada… Trull’s gaze strayed to the unconscious warrior again, studying the still features that, now that Trull knew, clearly bore the signs of his Andii heritage.

“A friend of yours?” Onrack’s voice rasped somewhere above him.

Trull looked up at the T’lan Imass with a weary smile. “It is complicated.” 

“Ah.” Joints creaking softly, the undead warrior sat down next to Trull. 

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Onrack didn’t ask more questions; to him, Trull’s answer was good enough and told him everything he needed to know. Trull wondered if that included things he’d never meant to communicate, things he wasn’t even aware of. Finally he tired of wondering and spoke again, “I would have welcomed his friendship, but he always seemed to hate me.”

He heard more than saw Onrack’s head turn, felt the steady regard of the eyeless sockets fix upon him. “Yet he fought at your side today,” Onrack said.

“He did.” Trull sighed. “He spoke of…  _ amends _ , he wanted to apologise.”  _ For the Shorning, for all the rest. _ Trull shook his head. “I wonder if he knew how much his words would mean to me.”

“You can tell him,” Onrack said, an observation more than anything else. “Look, even now he awakens.”

_ So he does. Will he still be pleased with his decision to stand with me, when it turns out we all live to see another day? _ That, was also something Trull would have to ask him. If he wanted to know. Decisions made when one was about to die had a way of turning sour when death was narrowly avoided.

With a creaking sound that felt loud in the silence of the night, Onrack stood again. “I will leave you now so you may talk in peace.”

Trull nodded. “Thank you, friend.” 

Onrack left. Trull remained where he was, staring off into the darkness while he waited for Ahlrada to get his bearings.  _ Darkness. _ He’d been brought up to associate it with betrayal — the Betrayer — but now he knew that the one the Edur called the Betrayer had in fact been betrayed by Scabandari Bloodeye.  _ Father Shadow, were you ever the hero we’ve been worshipping you as for millennia? _

  
  
  


“Trull Sengar.”

At the faint voice, Trull turned to look at the warrior who now pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Ahlrada,” he replied. “How do you feel?”

“Confused. How are we alive?”

“There was… intervention. I do not fully understand it myself.”

A moment passed as Ahlrada contemplated the words. “I suppose,” he spoke then, “that to die by your side would have been a nobler death than I deserved.”

Trull’s eyes widened, then he shook his head vehemently. “Do not say such things, my friend.”

“Friend?” Ahlrada repeated, disbelieving. “You would forgive me so easily?”

“I forgave you a long time ago. You were not to blame, after all. What was done to me… There were no good choices to be made that day. Though,” Trull added, a wry note to his voice, “I am glad you lived, for it means that I can tell you this in person instead of hoping in vain that your spirit might hear me.”

For a second he could see the stricken look on Ahlrada’s face before the warrior turned away. Awkward silence fell, and Trull couldn’t find the words to break it.  _ We are both a long way from home, and the chances of either of us ever returning are nonexistent. _ Trull had had ample time to grow used to the thought, and even so the grief was sometimes crushing.  _ Would that I had some measure of comfort to offer, my friend, but I fear I am as lost as you are. _

Well, not quite so; he had Onrack. That precious friendship made things easier for him.

A long while passed in silence, until Ahlrada turned back to Trull and spoke again. “And what now?”

Such a simple question, yet Trull almost wanted to laugh at the sheer impossibility of answering it. “Now?” he repeated. “I suggest we go get cleaned up. Every inch of me is covered in blood, and you don’t look much better.” He stood up and held his hand out to Ahlrada, who accepted it after the briefest hesitation.

  
  
  


Scrubbed clean and wearing a simple tunic and breeches instead of the tattered remnants of his armour, Trull found that he felt almost refreshed. The exhaustion from the battle was still there, and yet he didn’t think he could sleep this night; there was simply too much on his mind. Most of the children were asleep, the few who had survived, and in order to avoid disturbing their much-needed rest, Trull made his way back outside, Ahlrada trailing after him. 

Clouds had covered the moon, making the darkness near complete. Ahlrada gazed up at the sky for a moment, then spoke. “Do you still mistrust darkness, Trull Sengar?”

Trull shrugged. “Only insofar as it obscures my sight,” he replied. “There is nothing inherently more deceitful about the night than there is about daylight or the shadows in between. I know that now.”  _ Then why do I feel now, standing here in the darkness with you, as though my heart is about to betray me? _

He heard more than saw Ahlrada’s smile. “You do not sound entirely convinced. No,” Ahlrada added before Trull could speak, “I do not hold that against you. Darkness can hide things, after all. Truths.”

That was something Trull well knew; he remembered the bones of the dragon that had been Scabandari Bloodeye, hidden in deep darkness for millennia. Yet he had a feeling that Ahlrada was talking about something else, some other kind of truths. For a brief moment he thought of asking, but decided he wasn’t ready to hear the answer, so he merely shrugged again. “Some truths are better left hidden,” he said.

He thought there was something almost disappointed about the pause before Ahlrada replied, “So they are.” Another heartbeat of silence, surprisingly heavy and smothering. Trull could hear the effort in Ahlrada’s voice as he spoke again. “Will you tell me about this place? About your friends? Please.”

And Trull did. As he talked, they walked through the woods and to the shore, where the sea violently crashed against the jagged rocks. There they stopped, and after Trull finished speaking, for a long while the roar of the waves was the only sound.

Then, “You find the strangest companions.” Ahlrada sounded almost amused.

Trull couldn’t help but smile. “I suppose I do.” 

“They see,” Ahlrada went on unprompted, “the truth we were all either blind to or too afraid to acknowledge. They see your courage and integrity, and are humbled by it.” Pause. “As am I.”

The clouds drifted apart and the oddly blurry moon lit the night sky again. Trull looked at Ahlrada, met the warrior’s eyes briefly before looking away again, startled by the raw emotion in his gaze.  _ You think too highly of me. I failed. I have failed everyone who has ever depended on me. _

Moonlight glistened on the silvery highlights in Ahlrada’s hair; a detail that seemed somehow poignant though Trull couldn’t have said why. On an odd impulse that he couldn’t have justified had he stopped to think about it, he reached out to run his fingers through the silken strands. A startled gasp from the other man made him freeze, doubts crashing in, and then Ahlrada caught his hand, but instead of pushing it away, the warrior just held it for a moment.

Then, gently, he drew Trull closer. Clouds covered the moon again, and when their lips touched, it was in the dark.  _ Truths, _ Trull thought, his mind oddly calm though his heart raced;  _ truths hidden in the night. Yes, I see now— _

And when Ahlrada drew back, the silence between them a gentle question, Trull answered it by leaning in to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently my contribution to the fandom is Tiste shipping. I am fine with this. :D


End file.
